


Trying New Things

by FrameofMind



Series: The Things Cycle [2]
Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-07
Updated: 2013-10-07
Packaged: 2017-12-28 18:36:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/995181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FrameofMind/pseuds/FrameofMind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jin is too lax. Kame’s too paranoid. Together, they get it just about right. (Sequel to <em>The Way Things Are</em>.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trying New Things

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** Trying New Things  
>  **Author:** FrameofMind  
>  **Pairing:** Akame  
>  **Rating:** NC-17  
>  **Genre:** Romance/Humor  
>  **Word Count:** ~9,000 (Oneshot, sequel to _The Way Things Are_ )  
>  **Disclaimer:** This is a work of fiction. Not to be confused with reality, despite the familiar faces.  
>  **Summary:** Jin is too lax. Kame’s too paranoid. Together, they get it just about right. (Sequel to _The Way Things Are_.)  
>  **Author’s Note:** This story makes references to _The Way Things Are_ , but you don’t really need to have read that story in order to enjoy this one. I’ve written it as a sequel, but each can stand on its own.

“Kame, this is ridiculous,” Jin complains as Kame tugs at the scarf covering the lower half of Jin’s face. He’s trying to figure out how to cover Jin’s nose without making him look too much like a bank robber. The hoodie isn’t helping.  
  
“Don’t call me Kame,” Kame says, and Jin blinks at him.  
  
“What am I supposed to call you?”  
  
“Kenji,” Kame says. He adjusts Jin’s sunglasses. Maybe smaller ones would look less weird. Would also help if it weren’t cloudy outside.  
  
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”  
  
“Dead serious,” Kame says, wrapping his own scarf around his neck. “And I’ll call you Jiro.”  
  
“ _What?_ ”  
  
Kame sighs, dropping the ends of the scarf. He’s got a wooly hat jammed over his head with his red hair tucked up inside, the hem low enough to cover his eyebrows. With no makeup and dorky wireframes he looks almost enough unlike himself that his own mother wouldn’t recognize him.  
  
Well, maybe his mother would. But then she more often has trouble picking him out of a crowd when he’s all sparkly and idoled-up, so she’s not exactly the demographic he’s trying to hide from.  
  
This getup has usually worked for him in the past when he didn’t want to be recognized. Jin is harder though, because he always walks around like he’s in disguise, so the more you cover him up, the more recognizable he is. “Look,” Kame says when Jin fidgets again, “do you want to do this or not?”  
  
Jin’s mummy-wrapped head bobs up and down quickly. “I do,” he says, his voice slightly muffled by the knitted scarf. “It’s just…seriously? I mean, it’s not like we’re hiding from the law.”  
  
“We’re hiding from Johnny,” Kame says. “Way scarier than the law.”  
  
“But Kame…”  
  
“It’s this or nothing.”  
  
Jin plucks at the scarf as he thinks it over. “I know I said yes to disguises, but I thought you meant, like, a baseball cap.”  
  
Baseball cap! Kame snaps his fingers and digs through the duffel bag he left on Jin’s couch. He returns with a bright orange Yomiuri Giants hat with a well-bent brim. “Here,” he says, brandishing it at Jin. “Try this.”  
  
Jin raises a dubious eyebrow from behind the sunglasses, but pushes off the hood and replaces it with the baseball cap. Kame reaches up and tucks Jin’s long hair behind his ears, trying to make it lie as flat as possible.  
  
“Better?” Jin asks as Kame studies the effect.  
  
Kame snatches the aviators off Jin’s face and hands him a pair of cheap, out-of-date Oakley knockoffs instead. Jin dutifully puts them on.  
  
“Now?”  
  
Kame finally nods. “Okay.” His eyes still linger on Jin’s mouth, which has slipped from behind the scarf again and is a little too recognizable—not to mention a little too distracting—but he decides to let it go. Short of plastic surgery, they’re not going to get any more nondescript than this. “I guess that will have to do.”  
  
“Finally,” Jin sighs. “Can we go now?  _Kenji?_ ”  
  
Kame narrows his eyes at him. “You’ll be good?” he says. “You’re not planning to blow our cover the second we step out the door?”  
  
Jin shakes his head earnestly, and suddenly Kame thinks the sunglasses might not be such a good idea after all. Jin couldn’t hide a thing from him if not for those.  
  
“Okay,” Kame says, still eyeing him warily, just as a warning. “Just…we have to be careful, okay? This isn’t like…you can’t just treat this like a normal date. If a picture of you and me hits the front page of a tabloid, that doesn’t go away in a week. Even if it’s not…incriminating.”  
  
“You sure know how to sweet talk a guy,” Jin grins.  
  
Kame punches him on the shoulder. “Shut up. I’m serious.”  
  
“Yes,” Jin says, nodding with a gravity that Kame knows means he’s humoring him. “I know. I get it, okay? I just think…maybe you’re overdoing it a little bit. It’s not like we’ve never been seen in public together before.”  
  
“I know, but that was  _before_ —” Kame starts, because Jin needs to  _understand_.  
  
But Jin waves his hands placatingly. “I know, okay? I know. I know we’re not supposed to have anything to do with each other, and I know you’re supposed to pretend I don’t exist. Now let’s just get on with this already, I’m roasting in here.”  
  
Jin locks the apartment door behind them as they leave, and Kame shoves his hands into his jacket pockets and hunches slightly beneath the collar of his shapeless army surplus coat as they walk down the hallway, leaving as much space between them as possible without bumping his shoulder against the wall. When Kame says he’s going to take the stairs, Jin just snorts at him and grabs him by the elbow, dragging him into the tiny elevator car.  
  
“There’s no one else here,” Jin points out when Kame shrinks back into the corner and tries to pretend they’re strangers.  
  
“There could be security cameras,” Kame replies.  
  
“But we’re not us, remember? We’re Jiro and Kenji,” Jin says, with a smirky little grin. “Plus, if you walk down the street with me acting like I’ve got a load of plutonium in my pockets,  _that’s_  going to attract attention.”  
  
Kame has to admit, Jin makes a good point.  
  
“Ha!” Jin says, when Kame fails to answer. “See? I’m right. I win. Hold my hand.”  
  
“Don’t press your luck,” Kame mutters as he leads the way out of the elevator—but he can’t quite suppress a smile. And when they push their way out onto the sidewalk, Kame lets Jin fall in step beside him and relaxes his shoulders a bit, though he still keeps his hands in his pockets.  
  
“So, where are we going?” Kame asks when he realizes he’s leading without direction, just out of habit. Jin hasn’t tried to stop him, so he figures they must at least be going in the right direction.  
  
“It’s a surprise,” Jin says.  
  
Kame gives him a wary look.  
  
“A good surprise. I swear.”  
  
Jin hails them a cab once they get out of the winding backstreets and onto the main thoroughfare. He shoos Kame inside and leans in the driver’s side window so he can give instructions without Kame listening in. When Jin climbs in beside him, Kame gives him a look, but Jin only smirks at him, entirely too proud of himself.  
  
*      *      *  
  
“Jin,” Kame says as they stroll along the nearly deserted boardwalk, the icy wind from the bay at their backs.  
  
“What?” Jin says. “I don’t see any Jin here. My name is Jiro, Kenji.”  
  
Kame glares at him. Even with the scarf over his face and the sunglasses reflecting the overcast sky, Kame can see that smug grin, the little bounce that’s either from the cold or from the joy of scoring another point.  
  
“ _Jiro_ ,” he corrects himself. “This is a nice idea and all, but…don’t you think this is more of a summer place?”  
  
Several of the restaurants lining the boardwalk are open for business, but the pleasant outdoor tables that usually dot the landscape in warm weather are all cleared away for the season. There are a few people here and there, but most are alone or walking dogs or drinking afternoon coffee inside the warm shops with laptops and newspapers for company. Not exactly the thriving date spot it will be in a few months.  
  
“Exactly,” Jin says, pleased that Kame seems to have cottoned on to his brilliant plan, even though Kame still has no idea what’s so brilliant about it. “Just two guys wandering around the boardwalk on an afternoon in January. Who would suspect a thing?”  
  
Once again, Kame has to admit Jin makes a fair point. But he still wishes he’d thought to wear a slightly thicker jacket. He’d been anticipating somewhere with buildings to block the wind, and most of his cold-weather gear is piled on Jin right now.  
  
“Come on,” Jin says, tugging at Kame’s sleeve and nodding toward one of the sleepy-looking bars up ahead. Kame follows him, happy to get out of the wind.  
  
They choose a high table by the window, sit on opposite sides and unbutton a bit, though both of them keep their hats and glasses on. Jin looks a bit silly wearing reflecting sunglasses indoors on a cloudy day, but he’s used to wearing sunglasses indoors for no apparent reason, so at least he doesn’t think to complain about it. Kame orders a scotch and Jin orders a frozen margarita with salt on the rim. As soon as their drinks are delivered, Jin takes a deep sip from his straw and immediately scrunches up his face.  
  
“Ouch. Brain freeze.”  
  
Kame laughs into his scotch glass. “So what else is new?”  
  
“You’re mean when you’re drunk,” Jin says, reaching for his straw again with his mouth.  
  
“I’ve had one sip of scotch.”  
  
“Okay, so you’re mean when you’re sober.”  
  
Kame grins. “Then I’d better get drunk fast, huh.”  
  
“I approve of this plan,” Jin says with a little nod, and a tiny lap at the salt on his glass that Kame finds briefly distracting. “Then I get to be the one to pour you into a cab and take you home this time.”  
  
Kame blushes. “I’m not planning to get that drunk.”  
  
“So I’ll pour you in sober,” Jin says with a shrug and a little grin. And Kame thinks maybe Jin’s plans aren’t so bad either.  
  
Jin stirs his margarita with his straw, trying to mix up the icy bits and the melty bits that have started separating from one another.  
  
“So,” he says. “You still haven’t figured it out yet.”  
  
Kame frowns over his scotch glass. “Figured what out yet?”  
  
“The secret reason why this is the perfect place for our first date.”  
  
Kame gives him a sharp look when the word “date” makes his pulse jolt—but there are only three or four other people in the bar, and nobody is paying them any attention. “What’s that?”  
  
“Ah-ah-ah,” Jin says, and Kame wonders how he can possibly be so smug and so cute at the same time. “No hints. That’s against the rules.”  
  
“Rules?”  
  
“I can make rules too,” Jin finds, slurping away at his margarita and licking another little bit of salt off the rim, humming appreciatively over the mixture of salt and sweet. Kame had a really good comeback in mind a second ago, but he’s forgotten it now.  
  
After they finish their drinks, they bundle up again and brave the cold once more. The sky is still overcast, but it seems a little lighter now than when they went in, and it’s not quite as windy. Jin is leading the way, and Kame is content to follow, because Jin has plans and he keeps doing that little cold/excited bounce thing that makes Kame want to throw his arms around him and warm him up. But he keeps his hands in his pockets. It’s safer that way.  
  
Jin hooks Kame by the elbow again when they reach the arcade.  
  
“What? Where are we going now?” he asks as Jin drags him towards the entrance.  
  
“Here,” Jin says, and Kame realizes too late that it’s a purikura machine.  
  
“Wait—Jin—”  
  
“Jiro,” Jin corrects, squeezing in beside Kame and preventing him from escaping.  
  
“We shouldn’t—I don’t think photos are a good idea—”  
  
“Relax,” Jin says, poking at the screen and choosing a colorful background.  
  
“But what if—”  
  
The camera flashes a couple of times while he’s still talking. Halfway through, Jin grabs him by the scarf and plants a sloppy kiss on his lips. The next picture features Kame glaring at Jin with his palm mashed against Jin’s face and his cheeks a bit red. When the editing screen comes up, Kame draws black identity-disguising bars across his eyes and Jin’s sunglasses on the first picture of them arguing, and Jin laughs. On the picture of them kissing, Jin scrawls “Jiro and Kenji,” in English and dots the i’s with little hearts.  
  
Jin sticks one of his copies of the kissing photo to the back of Kame’s knit cap as they leave the arcade, and Kame pauses to peel it off before running after him, grabbing him by the hood and sticking one of the face-mashing photos to Jin’s shoulder. They use up nearly the whole batch in their giggling war of attrition until Jin finally confiscates both halves of the photo collection and stuffs them inside his shirt in the interest of world peace and preservation of scarce resources. He still has one of the arguing pictures stuck to his cheek, but he doesn’t seem to have noticed. Kame just grins and fails to point it out.  
  
A few steps later, Jin stops again, and Kame glances from him to the building at their right. He frowns up at the signage. Then blinks as he figures out what it is. Looks at Jin again, completely bemused.  
  
“A haunted house?”  
  
Jin gives him another coy grin and tugs at his sleeve again. Kame is still staring at Jin’s profile as Jin leads the way inside, wondering just how much booze was in that margarita.  
  
It’s dark and a little creepy, and yeah, stuff jumps out at them, but Kame has never really seen what’s supposed to be so scary and exciting about these places. More than anything he’s always found them a bit pointless and inconvenient—a long winding path through a small space full of stuff to bump into and trip over. Whenever the lights strobe and flash scary colors he can see the streamers and the cardboard flats, the seams on the actors’ costumes. And, oh yeah, ghosts aren’t real.  
  
But with Jin it’s different.  
  
Jin clings to Kame’s arm, quivering and mumbling nonsense, shrieking quite impressively when a hooded figure in white jumps out from inside a plywood well and makes scary noises. Kame pats Jin on the head, and Jin just about rams him into a wall when some kind of puppet with a huge staring eye drops down from the ceiling right in front of him. Kame just laughs, and Jin elbows him in the ribs.  
  
Jin swallows a couple of times and eases away from him, trying to be gallant and lead the way around another corner. His scarf has fallen unwrapped in one of his mad dashes from a tissue-paper ghoul, and there’s an inviting patch of skin there, glowing blue in the ghostly light. Kame can’t resist.  
  
He creeps up alongside him, watching Jin’s eyes dart around in search of the next approaching danger. When he’s sure Jin is paying no attention to him whatsoever, he reaches over Jin’s shoulder and strokes the back of his hand ever-so-lightly along Jin’s throat.  
  
Jin yelps and jumps away so hard he slams into the wall opposite.  
  
Kame’s laughter mingles with the groans and howls that echo distantly throughout the corridor.  
  
“You’re a bastard,” Jin accuses, as Kame helps him to his feet.  
  
Kame grabs him by the scarf and presses a warm kiss to the offended flesh. Jin shivers again, and this time Kame is pretty sure it’s not from all the scary noises. He grins. Alright, so at least the darkness has its uses.  
  
Then something loud and monstrous jumps out at them again, and Kame winces away from Jin’s ear-piercing yell as Jin grabs him by the neck and drags him toward the exit. Kame sighs as they stumble back out into the gray daylight, both stopping to catch their breath. Inconvenient as usual.  
  
But not bad, he thinks when he catches sight of Jin’s flushed cheeks, that vague expression of relief and triumph that lights his features. As if he’d just survived Toba-Fushimi and not a room full of out of work actors and painted plywood.  
  
“How do you not get scared?” Jin demands as they carry on wandering along the side of the road. They’re a little off of the boardwalk now, strolling down some backstreet where the exit of the haunted house left them—but Jin seems to know where he’s going, so Kame doesn’t bother trying to figure it out. He has some vague memory of having been here sometime years ago, but he really doesn’t know the area very well, so it’s not like he’d be much help.  
  
“I don’t know,” Kame grins. “Because it’s…not scary?”  
  
“But they jump  _out_  at you. And make  _noises_.”  
  
“And…?”  
  
“You’re a cold, unfeeling bastard, Kamenashi,” Jin says, and Kame doesn’t even think to scold him for using his name.  
  
They turn again onto a slightly larger street and walk a little further before coming to the entrance of a shopping mall. Jin opens the door for him, and Kame doesn’t question it, just lets Jin usher him inside. Jin leads the way over to the escalator, and they lean against the moving railing on the way up, leaving plenty of room for those who might be in more of a hurry.  
  
When they reach the entrance to the shop, Kame falters in Jin’s wake, frowning a little bit. Because there’s definitely something familiar about this place.  
  
It’s a t-shirt decorating shop. One of thousands, he imagines—he’s seen them all over the place. Koki used to drag him into them occasionally years ago, before he started buying equipment to elaborately pimp out his clothing in the comfort of his own home. But this one is familiar, and he doesn’t think it’s because he was here with Koki. He can’t for the life of him figure out when or why he would have been here otherwise though.  
  
There are racks of blank t-shirts and hats and scarves and other things people might want to decorate, and then there are tables covered in little boxes with all sorts of iron-on jewels and design pieces. Kame casts Jin a questioning look, and Jin gives him another one of those little grins. He seems to be enjoying Kame’s confusion far too much.  
  
Jin grabs a pair of black t-shirts off one of the racks, hands the larger one to Kame.  
  
“Here,” he says. “You make one for me, and I’ll make one for you. And no peaking.”  
  
Kame stares after him as he heads off to one of the tables on the other side of the shop and starts digging through the designs, hunched over with a very serious expression on his face. Kame frowns down at the t-shirt in his hands, and the vague familiarity of the shop blossoms into full-blown déjà vu.  
  
And then it clicks. The boardwalk. The haunted house. The t-shirt shop.  
  
He lifts his head to stare at Jin again, mouth hanging open slightly, soft cotton clenched in his fingers.  
  
It was years ago. He thinks maybe they were even still juniors. Probably one of the first TV programs they all did as a group, outside of Shounen Club. They’d each competed to plan the perfect first date to win over some celebrity guest—he couldn’t even remember who it was that time, all the games and missions and contests blended together in his mind after a while. But Jin’s date had included a haunted house. Kame’s had included a t-shirt swap, here at this store. They’d both lost miserably.  
  
Kame watches Jin comparing two cards of tiny little jewels in the light, holding them over the t-shirt he’s spread on the table next to him one by one. Kame never would have thought of this.  
  
Jin notices stuff. More than Kame ever gave him credit for.  
  
He clears his throat and turns to the nearest table to start poking through stuff, trying to call on his cold unfeeling bastard superpowers so he doesn’t melt right here in the middle of the store. But he can’t quite seem to wipe the grin off his face.  
  
The t-shirts they create are silly and outlandish, every inch of space covered with ornate patterns, animals, sports paraphernalia, inside jokes. Definitely not suitable for wearing in disguise. Kame’s pretty sure the shop girl who accepts Jin’s credit card as they both laugh over each other’s designs has recognized them for who they are, but she doesn’t say anything, and she doesn’t seem like the type to have  _Friday_  on speed dial, so Kame doesn’t worry too much.  
  
Kame is still grinning and inspecting the gaudy jewel patterns across the back of his shirt as they walk out of the store. In the lower right-hand corner, tucked into the middle of an elaborate red-white-and-blue starburst, are the first kanji of each of their names. AkaKame.  
  
“Thanks,” Kame says, more touched than he’s ever been by a ridiculous t-shirt with a giant glittery teddy bear on the front. “Really, thank you.”  
  
Jin smiles.  
  
They walk back out to the boardwalk, heading back the other direction now, and Kame can’t stop smiling. He doesn’t even notice that Jin has managed to sneak his hand out of his pocket and lace their fingers together until they’re halfway there, but when it occurs to him that they’ve probably been walking like this for five minutes and the sky hasn’t fallen yet, he decides maybe another minute or two can’t hurt.  
  
Jin leads him over to the railing, and Kame follows, because Jin is good at leading today. Kame can follow sometimes. They stand side by side with their elbows touching, and Kame leans into Jin a little, and Jin smiles. No more plutonium here.  
  
“You were right,” Kame says. “This was a very good surprise.”  
  
“Right?” Jin says. “I told you, you should always listen to me.”  
  
Kame slants him a look, but softens it with a smile. “I don’t know if I’d go that far.”  
  
“But I have good ideas,” Jin says. “I’m good at surprises.”  
  
“Yes,” Kame concedes. “You’re very good at surprises.”  
  
“Glad to hear it,” Jin says. And then, without warning, he ducks his head and presses his lips against Kame’s.  
  
Kame knows he should move away. But they’re still bundled up to the gills, and they’re standing shoulder to shoulder facing out toward the bay, and the boardwalk is nearly deserted anyway, and the cloudy sky is like a canopy shielding them from the limelight. It’s just them, and Jin’s lips are warm and a little bit salty, maybe still from the margarita, and Kame kisses him back. Brings a hand up to Jin’s cheek and flicks his tongue against Jin’s lip, just like Jin and the margarita glass. Jin hums into the kiss and opens for him, and Kame follows, and they definitely shouldn’t be doing this in public, idols or not, but he doesn’t care anymore. For the first time in a very long time, he feels like no one is watching him. Even himself.  
  
Kame bites his lip as he finally pulls back, his eyes still on Jin’s smile.  
  
“Very good at surprises,” he says.  
  
Jin hails them another cab when they get back to the main road. The overcast sky is gradually darkening overhead, and Kame wonders if it might start to rain, or even snow if the temperature continues to drop. They hold hands in the back of the cab, hidden from the driver by voluminous jacket sleeves, though the sleeves hide nothing when Jin leans over and whispers a smartass comment about hat-hair in Kame’s ear. Kame just laughs.  
  
Jin is already peeling himself out of what’s left of his disguise by the time he opens the door to let them into the apartment, and Kame’s not far behind. The constant shift between biting wind and heated buildings has left his exposed skin raw and his concealed skin faintly damp under his t-shirt. He drops his jacket, scarf, hat, and glasses on the chair, and Jin reaches over to ruffle his awkwardly creased hair.  
  
“See? I told you. It’s a wonder you ever get any dates at all when you clearly care so little for your appearance.”  
  
Kame punches Jin in the shoulder. Jin’s own hair is kinked from the edge of the baseball cap, and his cheeks are still rosy from the wind, with an abrupt curved edge just below his eyes where they were shielded by the sunglasses.  
  
Jin grabs Kame’s hand before he can pull it back again and pulls him in for a kiss. And then he doesn’t let go.  
  
At first Kame just lets Jin drive, his fingers hooking in the sides of Jin’s t-shirt, breathing in when he’s allowed, and it’s just like on the boardwalk earlier except that now they’re really alone. Now there’s really no one to see them, and it’s nice. It’s perfect, actually. Kame’s arms wrap around Jin’s ribcage and he pushes in a little to deepen the kiss, and Jin just goes with it like it was his idea.  
  
Jin takes a couple of steps backwards until his heel bumps into the couch. When Kame pushes, Jin rolls down onto his back on the sofa. Kame follows him, crawls up over him, straddling his hips but careful not to touch. Kisses Jin deeply, and Jin’s hands are on his back, fingertips stroking beneath the hem of his t-shirt, but Kame keeps his hands on Jin’s face, in Jin’s hair. Because there’s  _really_  no one around to see them now, no one to stop them, and it’s nice, and it’s perfect, and it’s also terrifying.  
  
How far is this supposed to go? He remembers their previous encounter, Jin drunk and pushy, and he’s not drunk now, but that doesn’t mean he’s thought this through. He remembers their conversation afterward, and there was thinking in there, lots of thinking, but this is Jin. Jin thinking is different than other people thinking. What if Jin doesn’t know what he wants? When has Jin ever known what he wanted before he had it right in front of him? Jin’s not like that, he doesn’t plan things, he doesn’t think things through to all possible conclusions, and even if he does sometimes he turns out to be wrong, oh god—  
  
Kame breaks the kiss, breathless, his hands still on Jin’s face, though partly just to keep himself away. “Are you sure you want this?”  
  
 _Are you sure you want me?_  
  
Jin blinks up at him, a little dazed. When his brain catches up with the question, he nods quickly, and Kame has to stifle a moan when Jin’s hands stroke down over his jeans, pulling Kame’s hips toward his. Kame tries to ignore what it’s doing to him—he has to keep his head on straight. Jin seems impatient, but he doesn’t know how this works, he’s never done this. What if it’s too fast and he freaks out?  
  
“Kame,” Jin breathes, arching toward Kame’s hard on. “I want this. I promise.”  
  
Kame kisses him again, because he can’t not do it, and because it gives him a moment to think. They haven’t talked about this. They should have talked about this. It’s never easy, but it’s easier if it’s not in the middle of…everything.  
  
“What…” Kame starts, pulling back again. “What exactly do you want?”  
  
Jin seems confused for a moment, still distracted, one hand crawling up Kame’s spine, and it’s not doing any favors for Kame’s concentration either. Then Jin seems to understand, and there’s a little hitch, and Kame thinks there it is, there’s the part where the plan ends and reality begins, and somewhere in between picture booths and bedazzled t-shirts they  _definitely_  should have talked about—  
  
“I want it however you want it,” Jin murmurs, face flushed, and Kame thinks it’s not from the wind. “How…how do you like it?”  
  
Kame’s breath has gone from labored to nonexistent, and he empties his lungs and fills them again quickly when he feels his throat closing up. “I want…” he says, and looks Jin in the eyes. Does he really know what he’s offering? Does he really know what he’s asking? Jin’s never done this before. Jin’s only been with women, and he’s never done this before.  
  
Jin’s eyes go shrewd, and that little smile plays at his lips again. Almost smug, if not for the blush. “Oh man, you so want to fuck me right now.”  
  
Kame draws in a harsh breath, and he’s not sure whether it’s to protest or because Jin’s just squeezed both his thighs. Jin takes advantage of the opportunity to kiss him again, sweeping the inside of Kame’s mouth with his tongue.  
  
“Say it,” Jin says, his eyes dark, his breath warm on Kame’s lips.  
  
Kame dips in and kisses Jin gently on the cheek, then at the corner of his jaw, just below his ear. “I want to fuck you,” he murmurs, and he feels Jin’s breath leave him in a rush. “Is that okay?”  
  
It startles him when Jin’s arms suddenly go tight around him, pulling him down, and another shaky breath flutters over his ear. He can feel Jin against him getting hard.  
  
“Yeah,” Jin says. “That’s okay. That’s very okay.”  
  
“Are you sure?” Kame swallows. “Because I don’t have to.”  
  
“I want you to,” Jin says. “I want you to fuck me. I like hearing you say you want to fuck me.”  
  
Kame feels his muscles go slack, buries his face in Jin’s neck and sucks at the sensitive skin, and Jin shivers. “I’ll be careful,” Kame promises.  
  
Jin nods, doesn’t loosen his grip. “I know you will.”  
  
“We can stop if you want to.”  
  
“I won’t want to.”  
  
“But you’ll tell me if you do. Promise me.”  
  
“I promise,” Jin says, and his hands are sliding into the back pockets of Kame’s jeans, hips grinding up against him in a way that makes Kame bite his lip. “But I won’t want to.”  
  
They stay there for a little while longer, silent and thoroughly distracted, until finally Jin suggests the bedroom. Kame crawls off of him, nearly tripping over the coffee table on unsteady legs, but Jin takes him by the hand and leads him away, closes the door behind them so that they’re even more tucked away than before.  
  
Jin pulls off his own shirt, and Kame blinks at him for a moment before following suit. It feels slightly strange to be undressing like this—not a first, but a first for this purpose. When Jin has finished undressing, he crawls under the covers, scooting toward the middle of the bed to leave enough room for Kame to join him. Kame folds his jeans away and kicks off his boxers before sliding under the covers as well. He settles himself beside Jin with a few inches of space between them, but Jin doesn’t let that last long, curling an arm around the small of Kame’s back and dragging them against each other until they’re touching almost everywhere.  
  
Kame keeps his hands in relatively neutral territory as Jin explores his body. He can’t stop thinking about logistics, wondering if Jin really knows what this involves, if he’ll really be okay with it. About how this is Jin, and if he fucks this up he’ll never forgive himself. He can’t fuck this up.  
  
After another long kiss, Kame reluctantly pulls back to look Jin in the eye.  
  
“Are you really sure?”  
  
Jin sighs, head dropping back a bit on the mattress. “Kame, you have a shockingly persistent inferiority complex for someone so hot.”  
  
“I’m just trying—”  
  
“Well quit it, okay?” Jin interrupts. “I already told you I want you, so cut it out.” And then something flickers in his eyes, something occurring to him that hasn’t before, and Kame feels his heart sink. Here it is. The other shoe.  
  
“Unless…unless  _you_  don’t…”  
  
It takes Kame’s brain a second to make the 180-degree turn. “No! No, absolutely not—I mean, I do, I just…I don’t want you to get…stranded.”  
  
Jin relaxes again, returning an easy smile, and Kame can’t help thinking how wrong it is that Jin’s the one stroking soothing circles on his back in this situation. Wrong, but nice.  
  
“I won’t get stranded,” Jin says. “You’ll be there.”  
  
Kame feels his chest get all warm and fuzzy, and it’s totally unfair that Jin can do that to him so easily. Unfair, but nice.  
  
Kame kisses him again and tries to relax, reminds himself that Jin is a grown up and he knows what he wants and he can make his own decisions without Kame’s help. And there’s a hard-on pressing against Kame’s hip that says he’s very pleased with his current course of action, a gentle hand gliding down Kame’s back that says he’s enjoying this, he wants Kame near. And it does help. Kame might have trouble taking Jin’s words at face value sometimes, but he’d be hard pressed to ignore what Jin’s body is telling him.  
  
Kame’s hand strokes down Jin’s cheek as he shifts himself up onto an elbow, pulling back from another lingering kiss.  
  
“Do you have…stuff?” Kame asks. He was optimistic enough earlier in the day to put all the necessary supplies in the duffel bag, but that’s all the way back out in the living room, and he sort of doesn’t want to let Jin out of his sight. He’s not afraid of ghosts, but some tiny irrational part of him feels like if he leaves the room, Jin won’t be here when he gets back.  
  
“Like…what exactly?” Jin asks, and Kame can see him wondering if there’s some super-secret ingredient to gay sex that he wouldn’t have come across in his straight exploits.  
  
“Lube,” Kame says, kissing Jin again so he doesn’t have to look him in the eye when he says it out loud. “Condoms.”  
  
“Oh.” Jin looks a little sheepish, nods as he kisses Kame again, holding on a little longer this time. “Yeah. Top drawer,” he says, gesturing at the nightstand to Kame’s right. Kame leans up and digs out a half-filled tube, a couple of small packets.  
  
“Um,” Jin says, glancing at the packets between Kame’s fingers. His hand is still in Kame’s hair, stroking it back from his face, and Kame looks at him. Jin blushes, meets his eyes for a moment before glancing away.  
  
“You don’t have to,” Jin says. “With those. I mean, I don’t know how it works, or maybe you’d rather—but if…if you’re just worried, you don’t have to. I’m…it’s safe.”  
  
Kame stares at him for a bit, trying to sort out what Jin is saying in between the half-finished sentences. What he’s saying, and then what he’s really saying.  
  
When Jin looks at him, Kame feels a squeeze somewhere in his chest, and it’s not about the packets in his hand.  
  
He reels himself in, takes another moment just to sort out the two separate conversations going on here. Because there’s the one thing, and then there’s the other, and it’s  _really_  not a good idea for them to go into this with their wires crossed. About either thing. “Um…thanks,” he says carefully, hoping Jin won’t hear this wrong. “But that’s not necessary.”  
  
Jin nods quickly. “Okay, that’s fine. I mean, like I said, I don’t know how it works. And I don’t know if you…well. I just…want you to know that I’m not with anyone else. And I’m not planning to be.”  
  
“I know,” Kame says, nodding back. “I got that, really. And…me too. But still—it’s better this way. Safer for both of us. And that’s the way I like it.”  
  
Jin lets out a little breath and smiles, and Kame kisses him again just because he can, and because it makes the hard stuff easier. When Jin’s fingers curl in his hair, Kame breathes easier too.  
  
“Thank you for taking care of me,” Jin says against his lips.  
  
Kame laughs a bit nervously. “I haven’t actually started yet.”  
  
Jin grins up at him. “Well you’re doing a good job so far.”  
  
Kame eases himself against Jin’s body, into the feeling of Jin’s fingers running through his hair. He doesn’t feel clever or in-control or anything like that anymore, he just feels good. Jin feels good. Jin won’t disappear. He promised.  
  
“How should I, like…be?” Jin asks. And there’s that cute blush again, and Kame can see him trying on positions in his mind, mulling over mechanics he has little familiarity with. He might know what he wants, but that still doesn’t mean he knows what he’s doing.  
  
“Um…on your stomach, maybe?” Kame suggests. There are other ways, some easier, some nicer, but that seems like the best balance of the two in this situation.  
  
Jin gives a little smile and kisses him softly once more, then twists around a little underneath Kame until he’s stretched out on his front, his arms folded under his head.  
  
“Like this?” he asks, voice a little muffled in the crook of his elbow as he looks around at Kame.  
  
Kame skims the long line of Jin’s back with his eyes, takes in the point at which his own hips are resting against the side of Jin’s, and swallows.  
  
“Yeah, that’s…that’s fine.” And then he ducks his head to kiss Jin’s shoulder blade, hand stroking down along Jin’s side. When Jin squirms appreciatively into his touch, he opens his mouth a little and lets his tongue warm Jin’s skin in slow, soft circles.  
  
His hand finds its way over the curve of Jin’s buttocks, and he feels Jin go very still when he gently slides one finger between. Just an experimental rub against wrinkled flesh. After a moment, Jin’s breath shudders out of him.  
  
“You okay?” Kame asks. He doesn’t want to make it sound like he’s doubting him again, but he thinks maybe this will work better if they talk it through.  
  
Jin nods against his arms. “Just…different,” he says. “Not bad though.”  
  
Kame nods and kisses Jin’s shoulder again. He knows.  
  
Once Jin seems relaxed again, Kame pulls his hand back and flips open the cap on the lube, spreads a generous amount over his fingers.  
  
“This might be kind of cold at first, just a heads up. And just tell me if anything feels weird or…anything.”  
  
Jin nods again, eyes closed, and Kame takes that as permission to continue. Jin flinches a bit when the cool gel first touches his skin, but he spreads his legs a little as Kame slides his fingers down toward the relevant area again, and Kame feels himself get a little bit harder, just from that. He leans down and kisses the back of Jin’s neck as he slides the first finger inside.  
  
“Whoa,” Jin breathes, and Kame can feel every twitch of muscle around his finger as Jin gets used to the sensation.  
  
“Still okay?” Kame says, with another little kiss against the back of Jin’s neck.  
  
Jin swallows, eyelids fluttering. “Yeah. Keep going.”  
  
Kame takes him at his word, starts moving gently, soothingly, and feeling the muscles slowly relax. All the while he stays close against Jin’s side, keeping his back warm and loose with kisses. Though his dick is anxious to get on with things, Kame isn’t—he could do this forever, lie here like this with Jin beside him, watching him sink deeper and deeper into the mattress.  
  
When Kame adds a second finger, Jin bites his lip against a grin, turning his face into his arms and tilting his hips upward a little bit, and Kame can’t resist pulsing his own hips against Jin’s side, just a little bit. Jin feels it, chuckles without opening his eyes. “You’re not getting bored are you?” Jin asks.  
  
Kame swallows, and his hips jerk against Jin again without permission.  
  
“Bored is not the word,” he says, and his breathless tone makes Jin smile again.  
  
“You can do it for real now, if you want,” Jin says. “I think I’m ready.”  
  
Kame thinks so too, but this is where it gets complicated and he doesn’t want to rush things. “Okay,” he says, kissing Jin’s shoulder one last time as he slides his fingers out. Then he shifts around, reaching for the packet and the lube again just to make sure everything is slick, and Jin spreads his legs a little further to make room for him to settle between his knees, and Kame sort of forgets to breathe.  
  
“Don’t forget to breathe,” Kame advises, swallowing his nerves along with the urge to attack Jin immediately as he strokes the small of Jin’s back, lining himself up at the entrance. “It’s easier if you breathe, deep and steady. Out on the downstrokes. You can count out rhythm based on the—”  
  
Jin quivers a bit, and Kame glances up to see him smothering nervous laughter in his arms.  
  
“Um, Kame,” he says, “could we maybe do it without the lecture? You’re starting to sound like my swimming teacher.”  
  
Kame bites his lip. “Sorry,” he says, and he’s glad Jin can’t see how hard he’s blushing. “I just…I don’t want to hurt you.”  
  
Jin shifts his hips upwards invitingly, and Kame’s eyes fall closed for a moment at the gentle contact.  
  
“You won’t,” Jin says. “I trust you. We’ll figure it out as we go along.”  
  
Kame nods. Then he remembers Jin can’t see him and says, “Okay. I’m…I’m going to start now, okay? But I’ll go slow.”  
  
“Okay,” Jin says.  
  
And then Kame presses forward, sliding gradually into that tight, slick heat. His hands grip Jin’s hips, and he’s a little afraid he might bite right through his lower lip as he restrains the urge to drive it home—but instead he listens to Jin’s breathing, tries to watch for any signs of distress. When Jin turns his face into his arms, Kame gasps out another, “You okay?”  
  
“Fine,” Jin says, and Kame would doubt him based on tone if his hips didn’t seem to agree with him, his back arching slightly to pull Kame deeper. “Keep going,” Jin says, and it sounds like please.  
  
Finally Kame is flush against him, holding his weight off of Jin with shaking arms. His hips want to move, but he stays still, watching Jin’s short breaths even out, his fingers gradually unclenching from the sheets. When Kame bends low enough to kiss Jin’s back, he feels him shudder around him.  
  
“This feels amazing,” Jin says, and Kame almost loses his balance on a gasp, because he’s never heard Jin’s voice like that before, all rough and raw, like he’s found something he’s been looking for and it’s better than he imagined. “You feel amazing.”  
  
“That’s my line,” Kame says with a shaky laugh. And then he pulls his hips back just a little and gently thrusts forward and  _oh my god_ , Jin feels amazing.  
  
He gradually settles some of his weight against Jin’s back as he starts to build up a little rhythm, one hand on Jin’s hip and the other on his arm as he presses warm kisses to every part of him he can reach. He feels Jin starting to get the hang of it as well, falling into Kame’s rhythm and meeting his thrusts from below, shifting his hips experimentally until something makes him gasp and shudder again, different from before.  
  
Kame slows for a moment, about to ask again if Jin is okay when he sees Jin’s fingers twist in the sheets again, and Jin shakes his head hard against his arms.  
  
“Don’t stop,” he begs, and Kame gets it. Tries to find that angle again and feels Jin’s strangled moan when he gets it right.  
  
When Kame moves the hand on Jin’s hip down underneath, Jin shifts obediently, opening one knee out a little farther to make room for Kame to reach him, and then Jin reaches blindly for the pillow near his head, panting and shivering into it as Kame matches his thrusts to the stroke of his hand.  
  
“Kame…”  
  
Kame can feel himself nearing the edge, but he focuses on breathing, on keeping a steady rhythm, on keeping his hand tight and hot and on Jin’s helpless whimpers into the pillows, until finally Jin pulses in his hand and comes against the sheets.  
  
Kame stills his movements, stroking gently as Jin catches his breath and rides out the aftershocks of his orgasm. When Jin’s hands flatten against the sheets and he spreads his arms out wide, rolling flat onto the mattress and squirming up against him again, Kame knows it’s alright to move.  
  
It doesn’t take him long to find the rhythm again, and Jin just lets him take, spreading a little and tilting his hips to allow him deeper. Kame grips his hip and shoulder tightly and picks up the pace, until the storm of sensation is overwhelming, the slick heat and the curve of Jin’s back, and Jin’s hand over his against his hip, just holding on. Kame jerks against him, the last few feverish strokes, and comes, shaking, fingertips pressing into Jin’s warm flesh, and it’s amazing. Jin is amazing.  
  
When the orgasm subsides and he’s not entirely sure his muscles will actually hold him up much longer, Kame slips out and rolls to the side. As he drops the condom into the wastebasket by the nightstand, he feels Jin shift around and tug him back toward the center of the mattress. He grins as Jin gathers him up in his arms and buries his face in Kame’s shoulder, their limbs so thoroughly entwined that Kame’s not sure they’ll be able to sort them out again.  
  
“Okay,” Jin says, running his hands over Kame’s sweaty skin, and Kame can feel every breath against his throat, “the way you like it is officially awesome.”  
  
Kame giggles, still lost in the glow as he winds an arm around Jin’s shoulders and kisses his forehead. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”  
  
*      *      *  
  
Jin takes the first shower while Kame lies around for a bit longer staring at Jin’s ceiling, listening to the water running through the pipes. He remembers that morning after the last time he was here, trying not to hear the shower, not to think of Jin, feeling guilty for taking advantage of an ex-friend who was too drunk to know better. In hindsight Kame suspects he was the one who was taken advantage of.  
  
He doesn’t mind.  
  
When Jin emerges, one towel around his waist and a smaller one scrubbing against his hair, he meets Kame’s eyes with a broad grin, skips across the room and sits down hard on the edge of the mattress, making it bounce. Kame giggles and rolls toward him, and Jin bends down to kiss him, smelling like shampoo and steam.  
  
“Your turn,” he says, and gets up again to go poking through his closet for a pair of sweatpants.  
  
Kame lingers under the warm water, scrubbing himself down and washing his hair. He wants to finish quickly and get back to Jin, but he keeps getting distracted by remembered sensations, catching himself staring at the wall with a stupid grin on his face and not making any progress. When he finally gets out, he reaches for the folded towel on the counter and starts to dry himself off. Sitting next to it, on top of his boxers are a couple of neatly folded items that he doesn’t remember being there when he stepped into the shower—a pair of gray sweatpants, and a black t-shirt decorated with a glittery teddy bear and an AkaKame starburst.  
  
Kame grins. He can take a hint.  
  
When he steps back into the bedroom, he finds Jin sitting in the middle of the bed wearing his own ludicrously decorated t-shirt and eating turtle pecan ice cream straight out of the pint.  
  
“Want some?” Jin says, offering Kame an extra spoon.  
  
Kame steals the spoon Jin has been using instead and settles next to him, scooping out a big bite.  
  
“You are such a dork,” he says around a mouthful of pecan.  
  
Jin grins and picks up the other spoon, stealing the container back again. “Hush,” Jin scolds. “Don’t be rude to Mr. Beauregard.”  
  
“Mr. Beauregard?”  
  
“That’s the teddy bear’s name.”  
  
Kame raises an eyebrow. “You named it?”  
  
“Of course.”  
  
“Why Beauregard?”  
  
“Because,” Jin explains, as if this ought to be obvious, “‘beau’ means beautiful in French, and ‘regard’ means, um…looking? I think?”  
  
“You don’t speak French.”  
  
“I speak English though,” Jin points out. “It’s practically the same thing.”  
  
“You’re completely making this up, aren’t you?”  
  
“Yep. But it might be right.”  
  
“Unlikely,” Kame says.  
  
“But  _possible_.”  
  
Kame sighs and takes another scoop of ice cream. Jin’s eternal optimism is a foe best left for another day. A day when Jin’s leg isn’t resting on top of his, toes wriggling against Kame’s other ankle, and they aren’t sharing a pint of ice cream on Jin’s bed in place of a proper dinner like real grownups, Kame’s skin still buzzing with the memory of the best sex he’s had in years.  
  
“You’re staying over, right?” Jin says. He throws it out there casually, but his eyes stay on the ice cream as he carves out another scoop of caramel and pecan.  
  
“If I’m invited,” Kame says.  
  
“Of course you’re invited,” Jin says, giving him a half smile, his eyes sparkling with something like relief. “I’d tie you to the bed if I didn’t think that might be in violation of the whole ‘taking it slow,’ ‘seeing how things are’ plan.”  
  
Ah. Right. That was his idea, wasn’t it.  
  
Kame hides his face in the ice cream again, carefully choosing his next bite.  
  
Does this still count as slow? Kame hasn’t exactly had a ton of relationships—in fact, none of them were really relationships, just sex with a side of companionship, and even those non-relationships have been few and far between. Caring about someone the way he cares about Jin has always been something for later, something for somewhere down the road, when his career has settled a bit, and people aren’t quite so obsessed with who he’s with and why at every minute of the day. He hasn’t exactly thought it through consciously, but the idea has always been at the back of his mind, that it would be easier someday. That he could wait until then.  
  
And somewhere, also at the back of his mind, was Jin. Filed under ‘never.’  
  
Jin nudges against his shoulder, and Kame looks up.  
  
“You might want to eat that,” he suggests, nodding toward Kame’s spoon. “You’re about to drip turtle pecan all over Mr. Beauregard.”  
  
Kame looks back at his spoon, catches the big fat drip of ice cream with his tongue just before it falls. Then he slides the rest of it into his mouth as well, chewing the pecans thoughtfully.  
  
“You okay?” Jin asks.  
  
Kame nods, glances over at him and then back at his empty spoon. He fiddles with it in his fingers as he swallows the bite of ice cream, licking sticky caramel from his lips. Jin flexes his foot so it brushes against Kame’s ankle again, apparently without even realizing he’s doing it, and Kame wonders when, exactly, slow became not remotely possible for them. He thinks it might have been sometime around 2005.  
  
“I won’t disappear either,” Kame says.  
  
Jin pauses in the middle of scraping out the bottom of the pint to look over at him, and Kame looks up. When he meets Jin’s eyes, they look pleased and hopeful, and it’s enough to make the lingering nervousness in the pit of Kame’s stomach ease. This is just how things are. There’s no point in pretending it’s not. It won’t make him any safer.  
  
Jin grins slowly. “You promise?”  
  
Kame nods. “I promise.”  
  
Jin brushes his toes against Kame’s ankle again, and Kame shifts his leg to trap Jin’s calf snugly between both of his.  
  
“Good,” Jin says, happily caught.  
  
Once they’ve polished off the last of the ice cream, Kame takes the spoons and the empty package into the kitchen to clean up while Jin replaces the sheets he’d removed from the bed while Kame was in the shower with fresh ones. When Kame comes back, Jin has stripped down to his boxers, his decorated t-shirt folded neatly on top of the dresser. Kame does the same, perching his own t-shirt at an angle to the other one, so that Kame’s glittery teddy bear and Jin’s rainbow-colored unicorn are facing each other.  
  
Jin gives him a quizzical look.  
  
“I don’t want Mr. Beauregard to get lonely,” Kame explains as he climbs into bed.  
  
Jin grins and turns off the light, shuffling down underneath the covers. “Good plan,” he says as he shifts closer to Kame, wrapping his arms around his waist and resting his cheek on Kame’s shoulder. “Being lonely is no fun.”  
  
“Yeah,” Kame mumbles, his fingertips threading through Jin’s hair. It’s mostly dry now, only a little bit damp at the ends. He feels Jin gradually relaxing against him, his breath settling into a sleepy pattern, though not yet completely asleep. Just as Kame thinks Jin is about to start snoring, he stirs again, shifts up a bit until Kame can see his eyes looking down at him in the dim light.  
  
“Kame?”  
  
Kame brushes Jin’s hair back from his face. “Yeah?”  
  
Jin dips his head to give Kame a lingering goodnight kiss. It seems strange given everything they’ve done this evening, but something about this kiss reaches deep down inside of him where it’s warm and cozy. Where cold unfeeling bastard superpowers hold no sway. Where no one else has ever been able to reach him.  
  
“I’m really glad you’re here,” he says.  
  
Kame smiles. He has to swallow past a lump to respond. “Me too.”  
  
Jin settles against him again, and Kame brings his other arm up to pull him just a little closer. He’d crawl inside him if he could.  
  
He feels Jin smile against his skin.  
  
“Goodnight, Kenji.”  
  
Kame grins. “Goodnight, Jiro.”


End file.
